Kingsley Shacklebolt, Private Investigator
by Akikko
Summary: P.I. Kingsley Shacklebolt and his rookie partner, Arthur Weasley, have had difficulty earning their keep lately. When a case comes in, will they take it when they find out Kingsley's old partner is involved? AU with an OC.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of J.K. Rowling's characters. I do, however, own Spica Lupin-Black.****

Summary: Private Investigator Kingsley Shacklebolt and his rookie partner, Arthur Weasley, have been having a difficult time earning their living with the lack of cases around town. A woman finally comes in with a case that should be rather lucrative, but will Kingsley take it when he finds it involves finding his lifelong enemy?

**Note**: Obviously AU. XD Arthur's canon personality is next to nonexistent. This is based off of something a friend of mine joked about, once. It's sort of a play off of old 1950s detective movies. The idea of Kingsley and Teddy having a relationship (or partnership) comes from my dear friend, cerridwen666 on livejournal. Please read and review. Tell me if it's worth continuing or not.

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Kingsley Shacklebolt, Private Investigator

Private Investigator Kingsley Shacklebolt's office, 19:00 hours.

The office was as silent as always, and Kingsley Shacklebolt sat in his chair, his feet propped up against the table as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for the phone to ring. His foot was swaying as if to some unheard tune.

Hours passed, and yet still the phone did not ring, and still the door did not open. Arthur Weasley tapped his shoe against the floor with anticipation. His voice, rather stringy and high, the voice of someone who is constantly nervous, finally broke the silence.

"Look, doc, maybe we just oughta' call it a day—"

"The phone will ring, Arthur. The door will open. Good things come to those wait," came the swift reply. Shacklebolt's deep and slow voice was calm, yet confident. He tipped his hat downward, the shadow covering his eyes.

Arthur sighed, his shoulders slumping. "If you say so, doc."

Kingsley Shacklebolt was tall with dark skin and broad shoulders. He wore one single gold hooped earring and was surprisingly convincing at dressing like a Muggle. His suit was dark blue with white pinstripes, and he had a large white fedora with a single blue feather tucked into it. His wand was nearly always away in the folds of his jacket that he wore over his suit.

Arthur Weasley, on the other hand, was scrawny and unkempt. He was a few years younger than Kingsley, and was the rookie of the pair. Even though he was fascinated by Muggles, he himself could not pass for one. The clothing he wore, shades of brown and rather modern for the 1950s era, still had an air of mystery about them. He did not seem to fit in.

The two made a sprightly pair.

The sun was setting, and the light seeped in through the windows. The large blinds created dark and drastic shadows that cast themselves upon the two. The lines of dark shadow contrasted greatly against the dark orange light that found itself in the otherwise brown office.

Arthur sighed. "Doc," he started gently, "Just 'cause you're a P.I. does not mean that you gots to stay in your office all day. Don't you gots a wife to come home to?" 

Kingsley's foot stopped moving, and he lifted up his fedora slightly to stare at Arthur. "Not anymore, Arty. Not anymore."

The nervous rookie looked even more fumbling now, and decided it was better to be silent and just sit in his chair, admiring the shadows cast against the wall. The light glinted upon various framed newspaper articles having to do with captured Death Eaters and the victory of Aurors—memoirs from the investigator's golden days. Arthur had heard the stories of Kingsley before he had actually gotten to work for him, and felt absolutely ecstatic to fill the position as his right-hand man. It turned out, however, that it was not as exciting as he had hoped.

He hesitated before speaking again. "Well… I do, doc." He waited for Kingsley's reaction, which had been next to nothing, before continuing. "I gots seven kids to feed, Kings. We need a job, and we need one fast."

"Good things come to those who wait," repeated the investigator sagely, tipping his hat down again. "Calm down, Arty. It isn't like you to be so jumpy and nervous."

Arthur shook his head. "I ain't got a good feelin' 'bout today, doc. Somethin' don't feel right."

Kingsley didn't comment on that, but merely resumed to moving his foot in time with some music that Arthur could not hear. He then heard Shacklebolt's deep voice humming a rather familiar tune, but Arthur was not in the mood to sit around and listen to a grown man hum to himself.

"Look, Kings," said Arthur, standing. "If there ain't gonna' be a case tonight, I'm gonna' head out, right-o?"

Kingsley nodded, still not opening his eyes. "Go on, Weasley. I'll see you tomorrow."

Arthur shrugged his coat back on and shoved a hat of his own onto his head. "Later, doc." He reached for the door handle, but then the door shoved open only to reveal their future client.

The rookie rubbed his nose and closed the door, turning back around to get a look at the intruder and see the investigator's reaction. Kingsley had opened his eyes immediately and put his feet back down under the desk, looking his possible client over.

The woman was young, possibly in her early twenties. A dark blue strapless dress with a slit that continued to the upper thigh accentuated her figure. The pearls around her neck and earrings had a dull glow in the light remnants of the setting sun. She had a white handbag that she held in one hand, while the other was nervously clenched. Kingsley looked farther down and noticed that she was wearing boots, which was a rather unusual combination with a dress.

There was a small yet intriguing beauty mark above her lips, which were a deep, dark, and seductive red. Her hair was a dark black, but when the light hit it just right, it seemed to be more of a dark blue. Her eyes, a frightened grey, only seemed to emphasize her predicament. There was a small dark blue tattoo of a star underneath her left eye.

"Are you Kingsley Shacklebolt, P.I.?" she asked. Her voice was strong, untrusting, and skeptical, but Kingsley could pick up a trace of fear and urgency in her mien.

"Yes, he is," quipped Arthur, who had taken off his coat once more and was now standing behind Kingsley, who was still looking the woman up and down, his eyes lingering in a few places, but not for very long.

"Can I…" Kingsley forced his eyes to stop wandering, and he now looked the woman into her eyes, "…help you, miss…?"

"Spica. Spica Lupin-Black," she replied swiftly. "And… oh, yes, I believe you can."

Arthur and Kingsley both quirked an eyebrow to signal her to continue, so she went on."You see, I just came all the way up here from the Department of Mysteries. I'm looking for my brother Teddy, you see, and they said that you were the man to ask."

The hardboiled private investigator felt his heart tighten a bit. Surely, she couldn't be talking about the same Teddy that he had been working with for those years, could she?

Getting no answer from either man, Spica nervously reached into the white handbag that was close to her, and pulled out a photo. "I need you to help me find this man."

Kingsley leaned forward on his desk, beckoning the woman to come closer with this photo. He tipped his fedora upwards, and Arthur leaned in close over Kingsley's shoulder to get a better look.

The man in the photo, since it was a magic photograph, kept shifting. The photo was black and white, but you could tell that the different shades of grey were shifting in his hair, and his eyes flashed a few different colors. He was grinning to the photographer, and he had his arm around a much younger Spica, or at least, that's who Kingsley assumed it was. The younger Spica was grinning just as widely, but she wasn't looking at the camera, but rather up at Teddy's ever-changing hair.

The woman interrupted Kingsley's quiet musing when she snatched back the photo and stuck it into her handbag. "It's not very recent," she admitted, "But they told me that you could find him for me—"

"I'm not taking this case," answered Kingsley before she could even form her question. "There isn't a single way anyone can make me go find him." Even Arthur was taken aback by the way Kingsley brushed off the case.

"But, doc—" Arthur began to protest, but Kingsley raised a hand to silence him.

Spica bit her already pouty lip, looking to the ceiling for some kind of help. She looked back to Kingsley. "I'm willing to pay you lots of money, Investigator Shacklebolt—"

"I said, I'm not going to take the case." His voice was firm, and almost scary with its commanding tone.

The shapely woman, however, was determined. She took a step forward and then slammed her hand down on the desk, causing Arthur to jolt, but Kingsley looked unperturbed.

"I said…" began Kingsley, but Miss Lupin-Black leaned toward him, putting her arms on the desk. She was doing her best to accentuate her already noticeable cleavage as she tried her best at using a seductive tone.

"I'll do anything, Kingsley…" she offered, biting her lip at the end of her sentence. She batted her eyes a few times—slowly and as sexily as she could manage, which was already getting Arthur in the background a bit hot and bothered, but he was quick to remind himself that he had seven children and a wife waiting for him at home.

Kingsley quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward, nearly touching noses with the woman in front of him. "I said, I'm not going to take this case." He stared her straight into the eyes, brown meeting grey. "And there isn't a thing you can say to make me take it."

Spica, the ever-determined girl that she was, did not take no as an answer. She stood and brushed down her dress, and then looked down at Kingsley again, who was now leaning back into his chair once more, his fedora tipped downward to show that there was nothing anymore to say.

"You two used to work together, Kingsley. Please. For old time's sake," she pleaded, her voice genuinely getting across the message of longing. "I miss my brother."

Shacklebolt sighed, and took his hat off to run a hand through his short black hair. "He ruined my life, miss."

Spica looked a bit taken aback, and took a step backwards to look Kingsley over. "But you two were such great partners—"

"He took my woman, my case, and my money," continued Kingsley. Arthur was staring on in shock, because he had not even heard a snippet about this before. "Why should I find him for you?"

"Well, sir…" replied Spica, taking another step towards him, "This time you've got me to keep you company."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow, and the woman sighed. "And, if you see him again, you can yell at him. Tie up the loose ends of your little spat, you know."

"Or shoot him," muttered Kingsley. He stood, and Arthur scampered behind him, following him as he walked towards Spica. He towered over her, but she looked up at him, her eyes shining with determination now.

"…I'm not going to trust you just because you have money," said Kingsley, looking down at her.

She nodded. "I know."

"An' the doc can't guarantee that we'll find 'im," piped in Arthur.

"I know."

Kingsley sighed, smiling in exasperation. "You just don't give up, do you?"

Spica smirked. "It's one of my better traits."

Kingsley looked over and quirked an eyebrow at Arthur, who nodded vehemently and mouthed, Take the case! We need the money!

The hardboiled investigator put his hand out for the woman to shake. "I'll take the case."

Spica clasped his hand and shook. "And you'll get the money." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Kingsley on the cheek, whispering into his ear, "Thanks, doc."

Kingsley rubbed his cheek absentmindedly where she kissed it, not showing much of a reaction emotionally. "Don't mention it."

He grabbed his fedora off the desk and put it back onto his head, reaching for his jacket and shrugging it on. Arthur soon followed suit.

Spica was turning to the door, no doubt leading them to the first aspect of the case. Arthur went out first, and he was followed by Kingsley, who turned back to look at Spica before she went through as well.

"…Ever."

And they went on their way. 


End file.
